


Four Times They Did and One Time They Didn't: A Surfeit of Changes

by ObserveroftheUniverse (kyasurin_chan)



Category: The Avengers (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 08:08:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyasurin_chan/pseuds/ObserveroftheUniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part one in series of post-episode intimate moments between Steed and Emma. Post for A Surfeit of H2O.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Times They Did and One Time They Didn't: A Surfeit of Changes

“I cannot wait to get out of these wet things and have a long, warm shower,” Mrs. Peel remarked, pushing her damp hair off of her face as she watched Steed unlock the door to his hotel room.

“That sounds like a marvelous idea.You know, I just might do the same.”

The ride back to their lodging had been short, and blessedly so, for the Bentley’s windshield offered little protection from the wind that had whipped at them. Ordinarily neither of them would have minded, the temperature was mild enough, but thanks to Dr. Sturm’s rain machine, Steed and Emma were both soaked. And, as they discovered, drying one’s hair and clothes in an open-topped vehicle was not exactly conducive to keeping warm. Steed’s shirt stuck to his chest in a clammy, uncomfortable manner. Mrs. Peel seemed to have faired better, he leather suit having insulated her against the man-made torrent. Her hair, however, was dripping wet and Steed caught her shivering slightly on the ride back. A warm shower sounded like the best idea he had ever heard.

“Well you’re more than welcome to join me.” Mrs. Peel offered, her voice pitched low as she brushed past him into the room. Steed lingered in the doorway for a moment, taking in Emma’s figure. He was a lucky man. A damn lucky man. He followed her into the room and shut the door behind him, grinning.

“Unzip me?” Mrs. Peel asked over her shoulder, motioning to the zipper on her catsuit. 

“My pleasure.” He stepped in close, inhaling the scent of artificial rain - an almost metallic smell - and something underneath that he recognized as just Mrs. Peel. He pulled the zipper down slowly, his mouth hovering close enough to her neck that he was all but kissing her there. He heard her breathing quicken and when she turned to face him her eyes were dark with arousal. 

Their eyes met, an intense heat that was inherent in their relationship from the very beginning passing between them. Emma’s gaze landed briefly on his mouth, as did Steed’s, in turn, to hers. Her lips were pale pink, any lipstick she had worn long faded from the day’s events. He felt himself leaning forward, lips seeking hers as if drawn by some invisible force. But before they could meet, a firm hand on his chest pushed him back. He stumbled, momentarily shocked and confused - what was the matter? Surely he hadn’t misinterpreted her invitation? - before he saw her playful smile, eyes flashing with mischief.

“Get undressed, Steed. I’ll start the water.” And with that, she disappeared into the bathroom.

“That,” Steed called after her, “was very, very cruel.” Mrs. Peel laughed in response, the sound echoing and floating airily out to him. He adored her laugh. Still, he would have to get her back for that. It wasn’t fair, teasing him that way. Especially when she knew how potent of an effect she had on him.

Steed sat down heavily on the bed, bending to remove his shoes. He tried to get them off quickly - the faster he disrobed, the faster he could join Emma - but the laces wouldn’t cooperate and he ended up taking a full minute just to untie the first one. Finally he managed to get them off, pulling off his socks as well. He was about to start on his trousers, hands already on the buckle of his belt, when he felt a presence in the doorway. He looked up, then froze. Mrs. Peel had stripped with astounding celerity and stood in the doorway completely naked and unabashed. He swallowed hard, the uncomfortable dampness of his clothes all but forgotten, as his body responded to the sight of her. His blood rushed through his veins and his trousers began to become uncomfortable in a way that had nothing to do with how wet they were. This did not go unnoticed by Emma; her eyes flicked briefly downward, the corner of her mouth lifting as she raised her eyebrows at him.

“Well? Will you be joining me or not?” She asked, casual, as though she wasn’t standing stark naked, inviting him to join her in the shower and looking impossibly gorgeous while doing so.

“Certainly.” He was rather pleased with his own ability to both keep his tone even and stop himself from gaping at her. It was rather silly of him to be as surprised as he was. Though it wasn’t so much at the invitation itself as the way in which it was presented. Mrs. Peel had never been shy with him - save for their first coupling, during which they were both a bit hesitant from the newness of it all - yet this was a markedly different from the way things had been. Each time they were together it was something that seemed predictable, yet unexpected. He did not consciously plan to kiss her so much as he found himself kissing her. So typically, her invitations were more along the lines of a breathy ‘let’s to bed, Steed,’ between kisses. This was more bold and seductive than he was used to - not that he was complaining. But he supposed what really caught him off guard was that they had become so routine without his noticing. 

But, surprised or not, he was never a man who needed to be asked twice. He hurriedly set to work on the rest of his clothes, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it carelessly aside - there would be time for neat and orderly later. He fumbled with his shirt, fingers slipping uselessly over the buttons in his haste. He cursed inwardly and took a deep breath before trying again, this time with success. 

Mrs. Peel was already in the shower when he finally joined her in the bathroom. He drew back the curtain and stepped in behind her, admiring the way she looked with the water cascading over her body. Her head was tilted back, letting the spray hit her face, hands drawn up to her chest as she enjoyed the warmth. Steed’s eyes traced her figure - the curve of her neck, shoulders, waist, hips, backside - glistening with water. She was absolutely beautiful. Sensing his eyes on her, she turned, brushing wet hair back from her face. She didn’t speak, didn’t have to, she needed nothing more than an exchanged glance to tell him she wanted him. Once again he leaned forward but this time she didn’t push him away, she was through with teasing. Their lips met. Steed’s heart thudded in his chest the with the thrill of kissing her. Mrs. Peel responded enthusiastically, opening her mouth to him and suddenly he was pressing her back against the wall of the shower, the two of them kissing each other fiercely. Mrs. Peel was not passive in any aspect of her life that he had seen, and this was no exception. Her tongue darted into his mouth, sliding along his as they battled. And as in most things, they were equally matched. Steed cupped her jaw with one hand - the other placed against the wall for support - and tilted his head to kiss her more fully. Mrs. Peel made a throaty sound of approval and wound her arms around his neck, drawing him closer. 

Steed was the one to pull away, giving Mrs. Peel a moment to catch her breath before trailing kisses down her throat. She sighed and brought a hand to the back of his neck, tilting her head back to give him better access. Her nails scratched along the base of his hairline, not roughly but certainly not gentle, and it made his hair stand on end. He growled and shuddered at the sensation, only barely resisting the urge to press his hips into hers. He opened his mouth to speak, to let her know how incredible that felt, when he realized he was uncertain how to address her. ‘Mrs. Peel’ didn’t seem quite appropriate, what with him pressing her back against the shower wall, her leg wrapped around his hip, and nothing between them but a few rivulets of warm water that had somehow managed to sneak between their bodies. Using her surname in such a situation felt too formal. Yet, he did not quite feel comfortable using her first name either. 

Fortunately Mrs. Peel seemed to understand him without words, as she often did - something he adored about their relationship. Mrs. Peel repeated the action, drawing another groan from him, and this time he couldn’t suppress the instinct to roll his hips against hers. The movement brought his erection in contact with her center, making them both moan in earnest. 

“Steed,” Emma murmured, her voice husky with arousal as she guided his mouth to her breast. Steed readily responded to the suggestion, lowering his mouth to kiss one breast while cupping and massaging the other. He laved at her nipple before taking it into his mouth and sucking, earning a moan from Mrs. Peel. Steed smiled against her skin, relishing the sound.

When her hand snuck between them a moment later to firmly grasp his erection, Steed knew this was not going to be one of their more drawn out, teasing encounters. She stroked him slowly, drawing a grunt from Steed. Mrs. Peel hitched her leg higher on his hip to better accommodate as she guided him toward her entrance. Steed released her nipple with a final flick of his tongue, then righted himself and dropped his hands to her hips as he slowly eased inside her. She exhaled shakily and bit down on her lower lip as her body adjusted, then looked up at Steed with hooded eyes. 

Steed held her gaze questioningly, waiting for her nod before he began to move. He set a quick, steady rhythm to his movements, encouraged by Mrs. Peel’s hands on his backside. He feared he was hurting her given the force with which he was thrusting into her, but the way her head dropped back against the wall as she moaned reassured him enough to carry on.

With each movement, each sound of pleasure from Mrs. Peel, each slide of her breasts against his chest, Steed felt himself nearing the inevitability of release. Judging by the way her nails bit into his skin and the soft ‘oh, oh’ sound she was making, Mrs. Peel was right there with him. 

Steed’s release came with a heat that started at the base of his spine, growing to overwhelming intensity. His vision blurred and his pace faltered, becoming sloppy and frantic. Mrs. Peel shuddered, his name a drawn out moan on her lips as her climax began only seconds later. Her hands shot to his shoulders for support as her muscles quivered around him. Steed groaned, letting his head fall against Mrs. Peel’s shoulder as his orgasm overtook him. 

When he finally came back to himself, panting, the first thing he registered was the sensation of cold. The cold, he quickly realized, was the water. They had been in so long that the shower had run cold. Steed reached blindly for the knob, twisting until it shut off, then shifted his focus to Mrs. Peel. 

“Alright, my dear?” He asked plainly, lifting his head to take in her flushed, but pleased, face. 

“Mhmm,” She nodded, still catching her breath. Steed withdrew from her, wincing at the loss of contact, then lent her his shoulder for support as she gingerly lowered her leg from his hip. 

He handed her a towel as she stepped out of the shower, wrapping one around his waist. Steed watched as she toweled herself dry, trying to decide whether to ask her if she intended to stay the night or return to her own room. It seemed she was staying with him until the morning more frequently, though they never specifically discussed it. There were several things they did not discuss. He supposed that was the downside to their silent communication. Certain things, like whether she would stay the night, or would she prefer he call her ‘Emma’ when they were being intimate were never addressed. It was, he thought, reflective of the unusual nature of their relationship. They were partners and friends, they cared for each other a great deal, and though they were physically involved, they were not what would be considered ‘an item.’ Theirs was unlike any relationship he’d had before. Then again, Emma Peel was unlike any woman he had ever met before. She was brilliant, strong, confident, stunning... Come to think of it she shared many traits with Cathy Gale, but there was something different about her. Steed couldn’t quite put a name to it, there was just something about the way they just seemed to click together. Steed wasn’t much of a believer in fate or soul-mates, but he couldn’t deny that there was a connection between them from the very start. It was why they worked so well together and part of why there was such a strong attraction between them. 

At times, he wondered if this awkwardness wasn’t just a phase in the growth of their relationship, if it wasn’t inevitable that they become something more than partners and friends. There were moments, otherwise insignificant, where he felt as though there was a shift beginning between them. Moments like this one, where he stood simply admiring her, watching her wind the towel around her gorgeous body, for no reason other than that he had the opportunity to, when he could feel a change coming like a cloud overhead. 

Steed cleared his throat, drawing Mrs. Peel’s attention back to him. “I’m certain I could find you a shirt to lend you if you’d like to stay,” he offered, “Though I’m not sure I shouldn’t leave you as you are.”

“Well, in that case, we’ll just have to order dinner in, won’t we?” She said with a smile that suggested much more excitement to come later that evening.

He could fall in love with this woman, he mused. Perhaps he was already starting to.


End file.
